


Leap Day

by Lady_in_Red



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, F/M, Ficlet, Gen, Leap Day, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:27:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22960201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_in_Red/pseuds/Lady_in_Red
Summary: Tumblr prompt fills for Leap Day
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 27
Kudos: 148





	1. Isle of the Lost

Brienne woke to Jaime Lannister standing over her, shaking her shoulder. Her eyes opened barely more than a slit, deeply unhappy to be awake. It was cold. The kind of cold that numbed your nose and caused teeth-rattling shivering. And she was buried in a pile of blankets and sleeping bag that made sleep just barely possible.

“What do you want?” she gritted out.

“Time to go,” he said, stepping back so she had room to get up.

Brienne glowered at him. “It’s still dark. What time is it?”

Jaime didn’t look at his watch. “Midnight. Come on, we’ll need every minute.”

Brienne reluctantly hauled herself up to sitting, clutching the blankets around her even as sliver of cold air worked its way into her nest. “For what? There’s nothing out here but creepy trees and standing stones.”

“Come outside, you’ll see,” Lannister said cryptically, and backed out of the tent. He looked unfairly good for waking in the middle of the night. Flannel shirt, down jacket, beanie cap, and jeans with heavy boots. Light stubble covering his jaw, eyes glinting in the firelight as they ate a surprisingly tasty supper earlier.

Brienne crawled out of her nest slowly, cursing the cold with every breath. She jammed her feet into her boots and laced them with numb, gloved fingers. He must find this highly amusing, this wild goose chase he’d taken her on, dragging her to the Isle of Faces on this particular day in search of a sapphire pendant she’d lost in King’s Landing.

Jaime Lannister was famous for finding missing objects no one else could locate. He was highly secretive about his methods, picky about who he’d work with, and didn’t hesitate to turn clients away. Some people said he had psychic abilities, others said he was part of a network of cat burglars working both ends: stealing items and then taking payment for returning them. Brienne didn’t care, she just wanted her necklace back.

She didn’t even remember how she’d ended up tagging along on this trip. He hadn’t even guaranteed they would find her necklace. She remembered arguing with him, and she remembered crying over losing the last thing she had of her mother’s when he insisted he couldn’t return it to her until after Leap Day.

More than a month later, he’d left her a message, asking her to come with him. And here they were, camping alone on a misty island surrounded by ancient weirwoods and standing stones carved with runes that seemed to shift in the moonlight. The quiet had unnerved her. No crickets, no birds, no small creatures stirring. Even for winter it was too quiet. The entire island seemed dormant, perhaps dead. Except the trees, with their blood-red leaves.

The leaves were rustling now, icy wind setting them in motion as Brienne pushed through the tent flap. Her jaw dropped. “What in seven hells, Lannister?”

Jaime shrugged. He was standing by their campfire, the utility wagon he’d brought at his side. “I told you it had to be here, now.”

All around them, the barren ground and the white tree branches were littered with small objects. Socks, single earrings, pens, coffee mugs, a host of items large and small. None of them had been here two hours ago when they went to bed. “What is all this?”

Jaime moved away from the fire and started picking through the objects on the ground. He left the socks, she saw, but picked up anything that looked valuable or sentimental and tossed it in his wagon. “I don’t know how it happens, but whatever force lives here steals from our world, all the time. And on Leap Day, the one day that doesn’t really exist, all those objects exist here. Anything we can take off the island by midnight tonight will stay. Everything else disappears for good.”

Brienne shook her head, but she followed him, crouching to sift through a small pile of glittering gold. Necklaces tangled together, hoop earrings, none of it hers but the stones looked real enough to her, so into the wagon they went. “That doesn’t make any sense. Leap Day isn’t a real thing. It’s just a cheat from when the maesters made the calendars.”

Jaime shook his head. “No, that’s what they told people. It was easier than explaining that the children of the forest are still with us, just out of sight, and they’re thieving little bastards.”

Brienne barked a laugh, and it echoed through the trees. “That’s crazy.” But so was an island full of glittery objects and stray socks. “It must be ravens, crows, they’re known to steal.”

Jaime nodded. “Who do you think taught them to steal?” And he continued on his way. “Come on, we have a lot of ground to cover if you want to find your pendant.”

She didn’t have a good answer for that, so she followed him, stretching up to pick through tree branches glittering with gold and silver, bits of string, single mittens, pen caps and puzzle pieces.


	2. Bottomless Mimosas

Bottomless mimosas. That’s how he got here, standing beside the woman he loves, who doesn’t remember loving him.

Brienne’s brow wrinkles, looking all around the bayside brunch spot where they started their Leap Day four days ago. “Are you sure we came here? It doesn’t look familiar.”

Jaime scratches at the beard he’s been growing since the last time they were here. “Yes. We never have time for brunch, so you asked Loras for a recommendation.” Of course, Loras knew where to brunch. There were far too many avocados and microgreens on the menu for Jaime’s taste, but the mimosas were fantastic. 

Leap Day was on a weekend, and Jaime bugged Brienne for weeks to take it as a sign from the Seven to give herself a totally free day off. No errands, no getting in a little work, and gods forbid no cleaning or gym workouts. Just sheer unadulterated hedonism. To say she was skeptical was putting it mildly. 

So he started out easy. Bacon. Mimosas. Two drinks made Brienne deliciously giggly. After that they’d gone bowling. Greasy burgers and beers. Terrible ugly shoes. More laughing. Brienne’s competitive streak coming out in force. A sudden-death playoff and ill-advised bets on the outcome. 

Jaime won, so he got to choose the next activity: a couple’s massage at the Rose and Crown spa. Brienne’s fair skin turned raspberry pink when she realized they were going to be naked in the same room, being oiled and rubbed by two attractive Tyroshis. Jaime spent the whole time trying to keep his erection down and not just fantasize about being the one rubbing Brienne down. He’d been in love with her for years. She just never seemed ready to hear it. 

After that, with the sky threatening rain, Jaime had suggested something truly decadent, something she never allowed herself. A nap. And gods be good, Brienne had actually agreed. That delicious raspberry color had reappeared when she realized Jaime meant for them to nap together, in his obscenely comfortable bed. The silkiest sheets money could buy, on the fluffiest mattress, lavender misted over the pillows by his housekeeper every day. 

But Jaime doesn’t take her back there, not after the restaurant, the bowling alley, and the spa fail to spark even the faintest memory. 

They’re sitting in another restaurant, the steakhouse where they’d eaten dinner that night, when Brienne asks, for at least the third time that day, “Why is it so important that I remember? It was just one day. We goofed off. What does it change if I never remember it?” 

Nothing. 

Everything.

Jaime gives her a tight smile. “It was a good day.” The best. The kind of day they write songs about. Movies. The stories people tell at their golden anniversary party. And it would have changed their lives, if Brienne hadn’t slipped on the wet steps leaving the restaurant and fallen hard, her head bouncing off the concrete. Blood everywhere, driving too fast to the hospital, throwing his weight around in the emergency room to get her seen faster. 

Brienne seemed fine at first. A little disoriented. Dizzy. Then she started asking the same questions over and over. Her head started to pound. And the doctor decided she needed some tests run. By the time she was brought back to her room, she didn’t remember what happened to her head. 

By morning she didn’t remember the entire day. The doctor said it might come back, or it might be gone forever. There was no way to tell.

She was so normal, so herself, that the missing hours started to seem like a dream. So Jaime tamped down his disappointment, his anger at the Seven for giving him a taste of what he’d always wanted only to have it snatched away again. It wasn’t fair to Brienne.

Days passed. She didn’t remember waking up in his arms. She didn’t remember their first hesitant, experimental kiss. Their second kiss, even sweeter. Their third kiss, her hands in his hair and how he’d helplessly breathlessly confessed his love when she pulled away to breathe. 

Her smile. Gods he could live forever in that smile. And her soft reply, that she loved him too. 

She must still love him, somewhere inside. 

So Jaime smiles, and urges her to look at the dessert menu, and tries not to remember the taste of chocolate and raspberries on her lips. 


End file.
